


The Only Truth That Sticks

by Corycides



Series: Ecstasy of Betrayal [1]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Kinkmeme, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As far as Charlie Matheson is concerned, family is the most important thing. But does her uncle Miles Matheson really see her as family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

‘No!’ Charlie screamed, fighting her militia captors desperately. ‘No! Let go of them! Don’t you-’

A knee in her back pinned her to the ground and cold steel snapped around her wrists. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Nora already in shackles and Aaron unconscious on the ground, blood oozing from the goose-egg on his forehead. 

Black boots, polished to a ridiculous sheen, walked into her field of vision. She rolled her eyes up navy blue legs and fitted tunic to a pale, composed face that looked nothing like she’d expected.

He looked younger than she’d expected, less…corrupt and corrupted. Just another good-looking guy.

‘Charlie Matheson,’ he said, dropping into a crouch. A gloved hand brushed her hair out of her face, tucking the tangled gold behind her ear. ‘You look like your mother.’

She spat at him. ‘My uncle Miles is going to kill you.’

He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head back painfully, bowing her back against the knee still jammed in there. 

‘I think you’ll find, Miss Matheson,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Plans have changed.’

Miles stepped out of the doorway in a militia uniform. He wore it more comfortably than he ever had his jeans and shirt, although he had the grace to look abashed as he met her eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ he said, shoving his hand through his hair.

Nora howled in fury, thrashing against her captors. ‘Son of a bitch, you lying son-of-bitch. Goddamn you. You fucking TRAITOR.’

Miles looked away and Monroe chuckled.

‘I hardly think you’re in the position to throw stones, Ms Clayton.’ 

He shoved Charlie’s head back down into the rug and stood up, humming to himself. 

‘Show our guests to the cells,’ he ordered. ‘Don’t break them…permanently.’

Nora was dragged kicking and swearing to her feet – until a cold-faced Neville rammed a rag into her mouth – and Aaron was hauled up like a carpet. Scrambling up under her own power as much as possible, Charlie dug her feet in as they tried to drag her away.

‘Where’s my brother?’ she asked, eyes flicking between Monroe and Miles. ‘If you’ve hurt him, I don’t need my uncle to kill you.’

They gagged her too and dragged her away, down into the cold basement behind rough-soldered bars.

*********  
‘You let them live,’ Miles said. ‘That was the deal.’

Monroe poured himself a whiskey and sat down, long legs sprawling. He didn’t invite Miles to sit. He was back, but not forgiven. Not yet.

‘I can hardly just let them go,’ he said, swirling the drink around his class. ‘Tom Neville is my right-hand man these days, he’s not going to be happy if I let the people who threatened to cut his wife’s throat go.’

That hadn’t been Miles finest hour. He’d always liked Julia, she was sharp as a tack under all that polish.

‘Not to mention that Nora Clayton is a terrorist and rebel who’s killed dozens of my men.’

‘I’ve killed more.’

Bass’ jaw clenched and he glared. ‘Don’t remind me, before I start rethinking my position on your being pardoned.’

‘You can’t really take back a pardon,’ Miles said, leaning on the back of a chair. His knees hurt, keeping up with Charlie the last few weeks had taken it out of him. God, he was getting old. ‘Kind of undoes the point of it.’

Bass sneered into his whiskey, ‘I can do what I like.’

Fine. Miles waited. After a couple of seconds, Bass made an irritated sound and gestured for him to sit.

‘Nora goes to work camp,’ he said.

‘Texas,’ Miles counter-offered. ‘They have their own rebels.’

Bass considered that and smiled. ‘Georgia, let them deal with her,’ he cocked an eyebrow. ‘If she comes back, I won’t be so lenient.’

Miles twisted his mouth. ‘I doubt she will.’

‘And do you care about the fat man?’ 

Not so much, but Charlie would. ‘He was a software billionaire before the Blackout. He could be useful.’

‘And your niece?’ Bass asked, in that sliding, tripping voice he used when he wanted people to dig their own grave. ‘What are we going to do with her? She’s not going to just go away like Nora is she?’

No. Miles chewed on his knuckle, his mind clicking through the options like clockwork. He wanted to General Matheson again, and when Monroe had offered him this deal it seemed the best bet. He got what he wanted, and she got what she wanted – if not in quite the way she wanted.

Except, he wanted her to stay around, stupid idealism and daft ideas and all. She looked at him like he was a hero, and he liked that. Except, he’d just betrayed her and she wasn’t that forgiving. Not to mention, Bass didn’t like divided loyalties, especially in someone who was already on shaky ground loyalty wise.

‘Charlie stays,’ he said. ‘She’s a good kid, smart and tough and idealistic. She’d be a good officer one day.’

‘She threatened to kill me.’

‘Not the first Matheson to do that.’

Bass squinted at him. ‘Are you trying to piss me off?’

‘No, but I came round,’ he said. ‘So will she, eventually. Unless you’ve lost your touch with women now you can’t sext?’

That intrigued Bass, he finished his drink and got up to pour himself another. He grabbed a class for Miles too this time. ‘You want me to seduce your niece?’ he asked as he splashed whiskey in.

‘No,’ Miles said holding out his hand. His brother would hate him for this, but he had anyhow. ‘I want us to seduce her. We’re a team again, right?’


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie stamped on one of the militia’s foot – it would have been more effective if she’d had boots – and spat out every curse word she’d learnt listening to Nora rage in her cell.

‘Shut up, or we gag you,’ one of the men said matter-of-factly.

Charlie told him to go fuck himself, and ended up with another rag tied around her head. It tasted of sweat and oil and cut into the corners of her mouth. They marched her through the high-ceilinged, marble lined halls of the most amazing building that Charlie had ever seen. She tried not to gawp, but it made Drexler’s manor look tacky and that had been the fanciest place she’d ever been in.

They stopped in front of a guarded door, trading salutes with the other miliia, and knocked the door. Miles – General Matheson – opened it.

His mouth went hard when he saw her.

‘Did I tell you to gag her?’ he snapped. 'Did I say you could touch her?'

‘No.’ Her guard said. Miles stared at him, with those cold eyes that had scared Charlie so when she first met him. Even though he wasn’t on her side anymore, she felt smug when the guard blanched. ‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Wait here,’ Miles told them.

He grabbed Charlie’s arm and dragged her inside. She hung on to control of herself until the door closed and then she lunged for him, punching and kicking in an explosion of betrayed rage.

She got in a few good whacks too, before Miles grabbed her wrists and man-handled her into a chair.

‘Sit down,’ he said, pressing her hands against her shoulders. ‘And listen to me. OK?’

She kicked him in the shin. He swore viciously under his breath and glared at her.

‘Fuck sake, Charlie,’ he hissed. ‘You want to see Danny or not?’

Tears swelled in her eyes. She hated letting him see that, but she couldn’t help it. Ducking her chin she hid sniffling behind her hair while he untied the gag and pulled it out of her mouth.

‘Danny’s dead,’ she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. ‘They told me. So fuck you.’

Miles stroked her hair back from her face, ignoring her jerking away from him.

‘Charlie, Charlie. Listen,’ he said. ‘Danny’s not dead. I’ve seen him.’

She sniffed snottily and stared at him. ‘You’re lying.’

‘He’s a beat up and he’s miserable,’ he said, squeezing. ‘He’s not dead. I promise.’

Charlie hesitated. She believed him, but she wasn’t sure if she should. Just because he looked sincere, didn’t mean he was. He’d looked sincere when he’d promised her he’d fight Monroe.

‘Why’d you do it?’ she asked.

He looked down at her knees, rubbing at a smudge of dirt on the canvas. His voice was tired when he spoke.

‘Bass knew we were here, Charlie. He made me a deal, if I stay then you and Danny don’t get hurt.’

It was the truth. She knew Miles well enough to know when he was lying – she did – and he wasn’t now. Relief bubbled up and she lunged forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck so tight.

‘I’m sorry, Miles,’ she said. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t betray us, I should have trusted you. It was just, I was scared.

Miles made a choking sound that made her blurt out a laugh. She let him go and hopped to her feet, pacing around the room. Everything was all right now. Miles was still on their side, Danny was alive and all they needed was a plan.

‘I’ll tell Nora,’ she said, striding past the window. Then back. ‘If you can get Danny and down to us-‘

‘It won’t work,’ Miles said. He got up and slumped into her chair. ‘I gave him my word, Charlie. And besides, Bass isn’t stupid. Unfortunately, it would be easier if he was. He wants me back, but he doesn’t trust me. And after you threatened to kill him, he definitely doesn’t trust you.’

Charlie turned to frown at him, propping her hands on her hips. ‘But you have a plan right? You always have a plan, then it goes wrong and you have another plan.’

He scratched his eyebrow. ‘It tends to be a lot more seat of the pants than you’re giving me credit for,’ he said. ‘I do have one idea, but you won’t like it.’

‘Doesn’t mean I won’t do it,’ Charlie pointed out. It made her quail a little to realize how true that was. The girl who’d left home full of desperation and grief wouldn’t even want to know the Charlie she was now. ‘Try me.’

‘You join the militia.’

Charlie opened her mouth to agree, but then the actual words sank in. She spluttered furiously. ‘What? Are you mad? The…the militia is everything that’s wrong. They’re evil.’

Miles raised his eyebrows at her. ‘That’s a lot of people to be evil,’ he said.

She strode forwards and jabbed her finger at him. ‘They have re-education camps, Miles. They torture kids.’

‘I know. I left remember,’ he said. ‘But making Bass like you, is the only way he’ll let you stay in the city. Otherwise, you’re going to be relocated…separately.’

No. She couldn’t do that, not when she was so close to getting Danny back.

‘So, what?’ she asked. ‘I play the good little militia, and we wait until we can run?’

Miles pulled the face, the ‘going to Drexel’ or ‘let the bounty hunter live’ face. The one that meant he wasn’t happy with what he was about to do.

‘You have to make Bass _like_ you, Charlie,’ he said. ‘Enough that he wants to keep you around.’

She recoiled, backing up until her thighs hit the window-ledge.

‘I…I can’t,’ she said. Her face went hot as she spat out. She felt like she might melt from mortification as she shook her head. Things weren’t bad enough and now she had to talk about sex. To Miles. ‘Look I just…I wouldn’t know where to start being…you know. And he’s…old.’

Miles dropped his hand to stare at her. She looked back, chewing her lower lip nervously.

‘My first tip?’ he said. ‘Don’t lead with that. Look, you’re right. It’s a bad idea. I’ll do what I can, OK?’

‘I won’t leave Danny.’

‘Charlie,’ Miles got up and pulled her into a hug. ‘You might not have a choice. I’m sorry.’

********

The table was set for a fancy dinner, with shining white china plates and a veritable arsenal of cutlery. There was more venison and vegetables and more food than Charlie would have seen in a month back home. There were only the three of them.

Scrubbed pink and wearing a scratchy grey uniform, Charlie felt more like one of Drexel’s whores than she had in the skimpy dress. Actually, Drexel had lived pretty well. His whores would probably feel more at ease than she did.

She stuffed her hands between her knees and stared at her soup.

‘Something wrong with the meal?’ General Monroe asked pleasantly.

Charlie snuck a side-long glance at him through her hair. He looked so normal, it was weird.

‘No,’ she muttered. ‘Being in prison just affects my appetite.’

Monroe smiled and buttered half a roll of bread. ‘Attempts to assassinate me have the same effect on mine. I get over it.’

‘We didn’t want to kill you,’ Charlie said, reaching for the class of wine. Maybe that would bolster her confidence. ‘We just wanted my brother.’

Monroe grabbed her arm and slammed it down on the table. The glass shattered, splashing blood-red wine over the table cloth, and Charlie grabbed her knife with her off-hand.

‘Charlie, don’t,’ Miles snapped, leaning over the table and snatching it off her.

Maybe he was a traitor. OK, so stabbing Monroe wasn’t what they’d talked about, but if the man was close enough…

He turned her arm over on the table, revealing the pink weal of scar tissue on her arm. Her fingers curled and tendons flexed under the brand. Monroe traced it with a finger.

‘Wearing a false brand is a crime,’ he said. He sounded strange, more thoughtful than angry. ‘Punishable by amputation.’

Charlie tried to jerk her arm away but he just put his weight on her forearm. She curled her fingers around her fork, ignoring Miles frown.  
‘I didn’t want it,’ she said. ‘Your Lieutenant did it as punishment.’

‘Ah, of course, Lieutenant Slotnik,’ Monroe said. ‘Miles killed him.’

‘I killed him,’ Charlie corrected him, lifting her chin.

Monroe lifted her arm and kissed the brand, lips cool against her warm skin. Awareness prickled through Charlie’s body, like when Nate had touched her. Only this was actual…touching, with lips and a swipe of tongue that made her squirm.

‘He always was a good teacher,’ Monroe said, giving her arm back.

Completely unsure about what to do with it, Charlie left it lying on the table. Like a slab of dead meat in a puddle of wine-coloured blood.  
‘I-‘

Monroe put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. ‘Miles says you want to stay, get into the family business.’

It was for Danny, she reminded herself. If they sent them away, without Miles or Nora she’d never find him again. She took a deep breath and nodded jerkily.  
‘Please.’

Monroe lifted her hair off her neck, trailing his fingers through the heavy gold, and hmmmed doubtfully. ‘I shouldn’t even be letting you live, Charlie. Now you want me to let you stay in my city? Why should I do that?’

Across the table, over a big bowl of flowers, Miles nodded at her. Her cue to act, but Charlie didn’t know what she was meant to do. Maybe she should have slept with Nate when she had the chance?

She reached up and put her hand over Monroe’s, carefully as if she was petting a tiger. ‘Because you can?’ she asked.

‘A matched set of Mathesons,’ Monroe mused aloud. ‘Just like Pokemon, hm.’

‘What?’

He snorted and dragged her up out of her seat, yanking her around to face him. The men on the plane had smelled worse, but this was what they’d wanted to do and there was no Maggie to stop them this time. Charlie closed her eyes and held her breath..

‘What did Miles tell you?’ Monroe asked dryly. She opened her eyes and looked into his coolly amused face. ‘Flatter me, flirt with me and I’ll give you whatever I want? Don’t be a fool, Charlie. There are plenty of women in this city who want to sleep with me, I’m not going to fall over myself in gratitude for frumpy little farm-girl willing to swallow her revulsion and spread her legs.’

Charlie glanced down and then back up, raising an eyebrow. A sudden grin flashed over his face, and Charlie realized just why so many people followed him. When he smiled he looked like the most trust-worthy person in the world.

‘I didn’t say I’d not take advantage,’ he admitted.

‘Bass,’ Miles said behind Charlie. She heard the legs of his chair scrape on the floor as he got up. ‘You promised you wouldn’t hurt her.’

Monroe leant against Charlie, the hard weight of him hot against her skin. ‘I won’t,’ he promised in a low, throaty voice. Then he stepped back, smile gone and face distant again. ‘I’ll just send her away.’

He turned away and Miles didn’t say anything. This was it, Charlie realized with a falling sensation, no more plans, no last minute rescues. It was over.

‘What do you want?’ she asked. ‘If not me, then what? Do you want me to beg? Tell everyone I was wrong? What? Cause I’ll do it. I’ll do anything, just don’t send me away?’

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and scrubbed them away on the back of her hand. Stupid, she wasn’t a little kid to cry when things went wrong. That was just life.  
Monroe turned back to look at her and she tried to twist up a smile from under her tears. It mustn’t have been very good, because Monroe grimaced. She wiped her face on her sleeve   
again.

‘Loyalty,’ he told her. ‘I want your loyalty. You wear my brand, so you’re mine. Body and soul. Just like everyone else.’

It was wrong and he was evil, but Miles thought this was their only option. Charlie supposed they had been stupid to think they could attack one of the most warlords on the planet and get away?

She nodded jerkily.

‘OK.’

A flicker of that smile touched his face and then disappeared. ‘Loyalty oaths are usually a bit more involved.’

Charlie took a deep breath and shrugged. She didn’t even have the energy to argue. All the exhaustion of the last weeks, everything she’d shoved away to feel later, had settled on her shoulders. She just wanted this over with.

‘I mean it,’ she said. ‘I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me stay with my family. Please?’

Monroe considered her thoughtfully, blue eyes like water. Finally, he nodded. ‘Prove it.’

He walked out of the room and Charlie’s shoulders slumped. She buried her face in her hands and Miles came around the table to hug her, petting her hair and squeezing tight enough that she felt safe. Just for a second.


	3. Chapter 3

Monroe unfastened his jacket and shrugged it off, hanging it neatly off the back of a chair. The girl was fumbling with hers, hiding behind all that hair. When he’d first saw her the hair made him think she took after Rachel, but her glare and spare, strong face were Matheson to the gene.

He stripped off his undershirt and caught a flicker of blue as she glanced at him nervous. Her fingers got more clumsy.

‘Are you scared of me?’ he asked, walking over and taking over unfastening duties. She glanced at his chest and then up to his face, biting her lip and flushing through her tan.

‘Everyone’s scared of you,’ she said. ‘People tell stories about what you do to communities that defy you.’

He pushed the jacket open, but left it on for now. Underneath she was wearing an old shirt that cupped the long, lean lines of her. She shifted under his gaze, moving her arms to cover her breasts. He moved them back down again calmly.

‘I’m going to see you naked, Charlie,’ he told her. ‘You should get used to the idea.’

She shifted again and her nipples hardened under the washed thin fabric, the faintest hint of pink visible. He cupped her breast in his hand, feeling the warmth and soft weight of it.

It had been a while since he’d had to seduce anyone, even as much as this. Women came to his bed if he told them too, no effort on his part required. He was amused to find he was enjoying having to work for it again. 

His thumb brushed her nipple, making her start. 

‘Those stories,’ he said, ‘did they ever tell you about Madison?’ 

She frowned and shook her head. ‘No.’

He pushed her jacket down off her shoulders and unbuttoned her shirt, telling the story between kissing his way down soft, lightly tanned skin as it appeared.

‘Gregson ran it,’ he said. ‘He was a police sergeant before the Blackout, and afterwards he formed his own little gang that took over the place.’

‘Like you did,’ she said, prickly.

He laughed against her skin. She was definitely Miles’ blood. ‘Trust me, no matter what you think of me? The Gregson Republic would have been worse. He liked little girls.’

She pushed him away enough to give him a skeptical look. He held his hand out and pushed it down to hip-level. ‘Little, little girls,’ he said.

‘Oh,’ she said, tightening her lips.

‘In the chaos no-one really noticed at first,’ he explained, backing towards the bed and taking her with him. He sat down and tugged her in so she was standing between his thighs. ‘Then he started grabbing families from territory the Militia was protecting. So me, your Uncle Miles-‘

He glanced over her shoulder to the wall where her knew Miles was watching, flicking his friend a tight smile. 

‘-and Jeremy-‘ 

‘I met him,’ she said, putting her hands on his shoulders.

He bit the upper slope of her breast lightly. ‘I know. The three of us snuck into Madison and took out his entire gang over four nights. Turned out Gregson had ten little girls in a cage in his basement, we got them out and found them families.’

She frowned. ‘That doesn’t make up for all the people you take away from their families,’ she said. ‘For tithes, for levies, because one of your men thinks a girl is pretty.’

Bass made a mental note to check on that. There were plenty of girls who were happy to leave a life on a farm behind for the relative comfort of being a militia’s girlfriend in Philadelphia. There was no need to kidnap girls from farms. It was one thing to be disliked, another thing to be hated and worse entirely to look ineffective.

The justification for the militia was that it would be worse otherwise, he didn’t intend for some horny idiots to change that.

‘Have you heard stories of the Wasteland too?’ he asked. ‘Maybe we’ve – I’ve – made mistakes, but without this mistakes you’d have grown up somewhere where anyone could come and take what they want. All that you had, not just a portion.’

‘Why should we even give you a portion though?’ she protested. ‘We worked for those vegetables for that grain.’

He took her hand and slid it over his back to the clot of scar tissue on his shoulderblade. A stumble had been the only thing that stopped that Georgian rebel taking his head off with an axe.

‘We bled for it,’ he told her, kissing the taut line of her stomach. Her fingers flexed, nails digging into scar-tissue that only felt it as pressure. Monroe licked his way up her skin, that tasted of soap and girl, to the rosebud pink knots of her nipples. ‘You’ll bleed for it.’

She went scarlet, a hot wash of flush that he swore he felt pass under his lips. He leant back to stare up at, and then it dawned on him.

‘Are you a virgin, Charlie Matheson?’ he asked, hooking his fingers in the waist-band of her trousers and tugging her closer.

‘I…’ she stammered, ‘No? Can’t we just get it over with?’

That would have been a blow to his pride, but all his cock cared about was that she was a virgin. Hell, if he knew why. It wasn’t something he’d ever given a damn about until now. But the thought that he’d be prickly, tough Charlie Matheson’s first, and while that brand only, lover? It settled heavily in his groin.

His. She’d be his in a way that Miles never had been.

He unfastened her trousers and shoved them down her hips. The muscles in her thighs and backside tightened under the skim of his fingers, nerves making her breath catch and speed up. Monroe kissed the sharp jut of her hip-bone and along to the soft thatch of curls between her thighs. The brush of his breath against her there made her gasp.

‘What…’

He chuckled and moved down, finding the damp folds of her with his tongue. She sucked in a hard breath. ‘How isolated was that farm?’

‘Not that..I mean, Maggie told me how it works,’ she said. ‘I just didn’t think you’d do that.’

He stood up, dipping his fingers between her thighs where his mouth had been. Winding his fingers through her hair he tipped head back for a kiss, flicking his tongue between her lips as he rubbed his fingers over the hard nub between her legs.

‘Loyalty works both ways,’ he told her, nipping her lower lip. ‘You obey me, and I take care of you. That’s what being in the militia means, Charlie.’

A flash of black humour peeked through the glaze of wanting in her eyes as she glanced at the thick duvet. ‘You must go through a lot of beds.’

He laughed and slid a finger inside her, exploring the wet, clutching heat. She hissed and rolled her hips against his hand, flushing with a mistake of hunger and shame. The shame would go away soon enough, Bass figured. Guilt first, then shame.

Another finger joined the first and he spread them, testing the tight clasp of her body. She winced at the third, biting her lip, but he kissed that away as he thrust his fingers in and out.   
The heel of his hand pressed against the mound of curls, rubbing against her clit as she squirmed.

Her hands slid down his shoulders, clutching his arms as she came. He caught the sharp, soft noises she made in his mouth and then lowered his head to kiss her shoulder, suckling a bruise onto her collarbone.

Over her soft whimpers, the click of the hidden door opening sounded very loud. Bass smirked at Miles over Charlie’s shoulder, taking in his old friend’s clenched jaw and undone trousers. He didn’t think that this was the first time his old friend had touched himself while thinking about the noise his niece would make when she came.


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie couldn’t think. She didn’t want to think. If she thought anything coherent it was going to lead to her having to deal with the fact she’s just let her worst enemy, just let a mass murderer, touch her. When she agreed to this, she hadn’t thought that she would enjoy, even a bit.

Her body was humming contently as Bass slid his hands down to her ass, tugging her into the v of his thighs. She could feel the bulge of his erection (in her head the word sounded prim and English, the memory of Maggie’s mercifully brisk sex-ed lecture) against her leg.

His lips counted down her ribs and someone else pressed against her back, warm, callused hands sliding across her stomach.

‘Charlie,’ Miles said, nuzzling her throat.

She froze for a second, a hundred half-finished thoughts crashing through her head, then she snapped her head back into his face. Bone cracked on bone, but she didn’t hear the distinctive pop of a broken nose. Miles swore, the sound muffled, and she stiff-armed Monroe away from her.

Yanking her trousers up with one hand and her shirt clutched shut with the other she backed away. Sharp blue eyes searched the room for a weapon.

‘You’re sick,’ she panted. ‘This is sick. Sick sons-of-bitches.’

Miles looked hurt. The lying, two-faced…sick of a bitch! He held his hands up, palms out like he was calming a skittish prisoner.

‘Charlie,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’

Scare her? That was what he was sorry for? God. God. She managed to get her trousers up over her ass and abandoned her shirt to do up her buttons.

‘You’re my uncle!’ she said, voice cracking.

He scratched his jaw. ‘Not really.’

‘What?’

‘I never knew you as a niece,’ he said. ‘I never knew barfing baby Charlie or Charlie who stropped around the house in a mood or any of those Charlies. I only knew you as this smart, tough, beautiful girl who saved my life and thought I could do anything. I do love you, Charlie, just not like an uncle.’

‘Don’t-‘ she stopped – catching his eyes drop – and yanked her shirt tight over her breasts. ‘This – this – was all some set up so you could just… What? You thought I’d just go, “What the   
hell, in for a penny?”’

Monroe rolled off the bed and circled around her, trying to catch her between. She backed up, half-running, until her back hit the wall. He gave a twitch of a smile, like she was a pet that had done something clever.

‘Charlie, come here,’ he said, holding his hand out. When she just glared he cocked his head and reminded her, ‘You said you’d do whatever I wanted.’

‘I didn’t think that included my uncle,’ she said.

‘Come here,’ he repeated. ‘Or go back to the cell.’

Shit. She set her jaw, shot one last furious glare at Miles and dragged her reluctant feet over the floor to Monroe. There was no choice, she couldn’t leave Danny. So she’d do as she was told, and the minute she saw a chance they could whistle for her.

Monroe cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, digging his thumbs into the hinge of her jaw until she unclenched her teeth for his tongue.

‘Miles and I always shared everything,’ he told her, lifting his mouth from hers. He tucked her hair back behind her ear. She cringed inside with dismay. ‘Not you, though.’

‘Bass,’ Miles protested roughly.

‘No,’ Monroe said, he slid his hand down her arm to the brand. His nails scraped over the still tender, raised edges. ‘She’s mine, Miles, not yours, and I don’t feel like sharing. You can watch, but no touching.’

He skimmed a kiss along the rim of Charlie’s ear. ‘You want to punish him don’t you? What better way?’

‘I could stab him,’ she muttered.

‘Way that I’ll allow,’ Monroe corrected. 

He scooped her up easily and carried her over to the bed. Feeling stupid, and horribly aware of Miles watching, Charlie ducked her head into his shoulder and breathed in the heat of him. 

She could do this.

Monroe lowered her onto the bed and helped strip her boots and trousers off, tossing them over the side. She shed her shirt herself, hunching her shoulders in and trying not to look at Miles.

Just think about afterwards, she told herself. Only she didn’t really have an afterwards did she? Everything had been about getting Danny back, but what had she planned to do afterwards? Go home - couldn’t do that, the militia would know where to find them? Go to Georgia or somewhere, start digging in the dark and growing turnips?

Then Monroe tugged his belt off and his kicked his trousers off and Charlie’s mind was focused very much on the here and now. She’d seen guys shirtless before, and kids her own age skinny-dipping. There wasn’t a spare inch of flesh on Monroe, it was all lean, pale muscle and scars.

One on his wrist, nicking up from his thumb, a shiny splotch that looked like a burn on his inner arm and a curdled starburst on his thigh, just inches from the heavy jut of his cock.

He crawled unto the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight, and took his time over exploring her body. He kissed the sharp arch of her foot and the soft back of her thigh, lingering over the dip of her belly button until he made her squirm.

By the time he reached her breasts her skin felt raw in a good way. She couldn’t stop it and why should she? Everything had gone wrong, everything was twisted and foul now, so why should she fight it?

Monroe pinched one nipple between finger and thumb, pulling it gently, while he scraped his teeth over the other. His hair was short and curly, dark against the pale curve of her breast.   
She brushed her hand over his shoulder and down his back, following the taut line of muscle.

Despite herself, Charlie’s eyes flicked to Miles. He was leaning on a chair, hand curled tight around himself. His eyes were dark and hot, his mouth twisted into a hungry line.

She looked away. He was her uncle. She thought of him in the same way as she did her Dad or Danny, didn’t she? Maybe she didn’t know him as well, as long, but… he was her uncle.

Monroe shifted above her and she felt the brush of his cock along her inner thigh, hot and soft. She rocked her hips up to feel it slide between her legs, her stomach twisting sweetly.

This time he was him who made the noise, a throaty growl that thrummed through her skin. He bit down on her nipple, just short of hurting, and then turned his head to the side, cheek resting on her breast.

‘Miles,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you can see from over there.’

Her uncle – he, Miles – groaned. ‘Bass…’

‘What?’

Miles swore, a choked off noise, and stalked over to the bed, propping one hip on it. The bed shifted again and Charlie clung to Monroe’s shoulders, not wanting to roll into her uncle.   
She slid her hand down Monroe’s chest to his hip, then along the soft crease to the swell of his balls. He flinched, head to toe, when she scraped her nails over them. 

‘Later,’ he told her, reaching down to move her hand. Twisting his fingers through hers he pinned it above her head as he kissed her again. The weight of him on top of her shifted and she felt him pushing into her.

It kind of hurt. She sucked in a breath through her noise and arched under him, bracing her foot on the bed and pushing up to get it over with. He thrust into her and she felt a quick, tearing heat and then just him inside her.

He lifted his head and stared down at her, watching her face as he thrust into her. She bit the inside of her lip and tried to look…appreciative? 

‘You look so fucking hot, Charlie,’ Miles told her. She flinched at the reminder he was there, rolling her eyes to the side to see him propped on his elbow watching her. ‘I used to watch you sleep and think about what you’d look like in bed, all flushed and taut.’

Monroe pushed into her again and this time she felt the sticky pull of pleasure until the ache. She tried to hang onto it, but it slid away as he moved too fast. Too slow? Somethng.

‘You’re a sick bastard, Miles,’ he said, sounding more amused than condemning. He paused, cock still buried in Charlie, and leant over to kiss Miles. And Miles leant into the kiss, running a lazy, familiar hand over the tight line of Monroe’s back to his ass. 

Charlie caught her breath, too confused to condemn it, as Miles murmured in her ear and Monroe fucked her. The raw ache lingered, but under it she could feel that muscle-trembling rise of pleasure again.

It was a lot different than doing it on your own, lying in the dark and trying to be quiet and quick. She tipped over the edge with a cry as it popped in her stomach, splashing through her and leaving her liquid and done. She could feel her body clenching around Monroe, tight enough it ached again. He stayed very still, buried in her, until she flopped.

Pulling out, still hard and thick, he sprawled next to her and lifted her into his lap. His cock pressed against the length of her sex and he caught her hand and pulled it down.

‘Watch Miles,’ he told her, wrapping her fingers around the length of him. He set the pace, tightened and loosened her grip on his shaft, as she slid her hand over him. Unwillingly curious, Charlie peered under her lashes at Miles.

He’d tugged his shirt open and she could see the smudge of dark hair on his chest, tapering down past his stomach to the hard jut of his cock. His hand was wrapped around it, tugging slowly from root to tip. Between her legs Monroe matched the pace, her fingers sliding over his cock in time to Miles touching himself.

Dark eyes stared at Charlie and she realized he was as pissed off as turned on. His mouth twitched at the corner, pulling his lip into a near sneer.

His hand moved faster and so did Monroe’s, squeezing her fingers tight at the base in the same way Miles’ fingers flexed. His knuckles bumped her with every stroke, sliding against her, and her body throbbed.

Miles’ jaw clenched, muscles shifting under the skin, and jerked his hips out of the bed as he came. Eyes not leaving Charlie’s as come dripped between his fingers. A second later, 

Monroe did too, leaving her hands and thighs warm and sticky.

She felt confused and turned on at the same time. Lifting her hand from his cock Monroe kissed her sticky fingers.

‘Welcome to the family, Charlie,’ he said.


End file.
